Ambivalence
by chris'cut
Summary: ON HIATUS.Takes place 30yrs. after Yuuri & Wolfram met in Shin Makoku. After 15yrs. of marriage, they have yet to find their "happy ever after." And for them to achieve that, they must find a way out of the state of ambivalence they keep falling into.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Kyou Kara Maoh!_ or any of its characters. I do not make money from these writings.

**Warnings**: Themes contained in this writing are not suitable for minors. If you are under 18 years of age, do not proceed.

**Beta-reader**: none

**Summary: **Story takes place thirty years after Yuuri and Wolfram first met in Shin Makoku. After fifteen years of marriage, they have yet to find their "happy ever after." And for them to achieve that, they must find a way out of the state of ambivalence they keep falling into.

**Author's Note:** In this work our main characters are beset by the coexistence of conflicting emotions: love and hate, loyalty and betrayal, and trust and fear. For those of you familiar with my first KKM fanfic, I borrowed a few ideas. Hence some similarities: Yuuri and Wolfram's past relationship, a certain pair of magical rings, to name a few.

The chapters are cut short (quite abruptly even, so my apologies) for quicker update. Chapter 1 is only an introduction but I still wish you all a pleasant reading!

**Main Characters:**

Wolfram von Bielefeld – 112 yrs. old

Yuuri Shibuya – 21 yrs. old (Earth years)

**Ambivalence **

**Chapter One**

_November 15, 4112_

_Before someone robs me of memory again, I've decided to put down in writing the little I'm certain to be true and the many I'd been told to be the past._

_My name is Wolfram von Bielefeld, a hundred and twelve-year-old fire wielder and a full demon-blooded Mazoku from a country called Shin Makoku. Before I became the second most significant figure in Shin Makoku, I was known as the third son of __Cecilie von Spitzweg, __the twenty-sixth Maoh—the term for said country's ruler—and youngest brother of Gwendal von Voltaire and Conrart Weller. With regards to the different surnames among us siblings, that's because mother married three times; a story neither necessary to write nor to remember. What I do feel compelled to put in black and white is this life with my beloved husband of fifteen years, but whom I had been reacquainted with the day I awoke from a deep unconscious state a year ago in my world of origin. _

_Upon opening my eyes—and after what seemed like an hour of melodrama from my mother and unnecessary finger-pointing by Gwendal, who then realized I was devoid of memory—the first person who spoke to me calmly, explained the situation, and introduced himself was Yuuri Shibuya, the current King or Maoh of Shin Makoku. _

_Apparently, I am Yuuri's king consort._

_For unknown reasons, there were things I was able to comprehend effortlessly, as if my lost memory still existed but could not function on its own without prodding; hence I listened attentively, without questions, and accepted Yuuri's words and familiar events as my real past. _

_As mentioned earlier, Yuuri was the designated twenty-seventh Maoh of Shin Makoku even though he came from another world called Earth. According to him, Earth is filled with humans; and his mother was one. Yuuri informed me—in a cheerful voice of one looking back at an amusing past—that our engagement was accidental and that we owed it all to his human mother whom I judged unjustly without having met. This ended in him hitting my left cheek with his palm; and in Shin Makoku, a slap is a proposal of marriage. At that time, Yuuri was fifteen years of age, while I was eighty-two—though we appeared around the same age because a full demon blood aged slower than a half demon, half human like Yuuri. _

_I asked Gwendal why Yuuri was chosen to be the Maoh. Gwendal explained that Shinou—the original Maoh of Shin Makoku—chose Yuuri for his seemingly pure soul and immense powers. I purposely added "seemingly" because I questioned the very existence of such "pure" soul. Moreover, if within Yuuri was a side capable of great destruction —a dauntless self which clamored not only for justice but for vengeance—then how pure, harmless, or innocent could his soul be? Nevertheless, whatever truth there is, the present Yuuri—who has now become one entity with his fearless side—is perfect in my opinion._

_According to Yuuri, shortly after our accidental engagement, he adopted a ten-year-old human child named Greta. He told me that my fondness for Greta was almost immediate and that I looked after her as any future parent would. We were quite a happy family of three, he said. However, that moment in our lives didn't last long. When Greta turned eighteen, the people of Zoratia—an impoverished country—whisked her away and turned her into their rightful princess. While we're on the topic of Greta, let me note down that she turned forty this year. She, her husband, and their children visited many times since I awoke from a head injury. More than once I found her regarding me oddly, as if we shared some secret in the not-so-distant past. Perhaps I would learn the reason someday… when I've spoken to her in private, away from Yuuri's watchful eyes._

_Going back to the beginning of our relationship decades ago…._

_Since the time Yuuri proposed unintentionally, he was averse to the idea of being engaged to another man but chose not do anything about it out of respect for me. I, on the other hand, forced myself on him until he became dependent on my presence. Unfortunately this respect and dependence he felt were not enough to keep him from going astray. After ten years of engagement in Shin Makoku—on Earth, where time moved much slower, only two years had passed—he had a sexual relationship with some female professor from his university. _

_When I discovered of Yuuri's unfaithfulness, I immediately dissolved our engagement and requested to travel the world for an indefinite period. The agreement for this leave was renewable annually; thus I had to return to Covenant Castle before the end of December of every year for the next few years._

_Despite my incurable seasickness, I set out on a voyage with my private army. We had barely seen a diminutive portion of the world when our ship was wrecked, hurled by the ferocious wind into the rocky coast of a country called Lemaroy. It was then that I met the King of Lemaroy, Corentin Mael Fitzroy, or Mael, as Yuuri referred to him in short. _

_Yuuri said Mael was an enigmatic man who used passions of the flesh to consume my better judgment; and used charms to fill my head with illusions of some idyllic life which made me turn my back on my country. Yuuri said that I was bewitched because within a month of first acquaintance, Mael asked me to be his prince consort—not king consort because I wasn't a citizen of Lemaroy—and I accepted. Mael and I were engaged for almost four years. Alas, after heartaches and other misfortunes—none of which I was informed in detail—Mael and I mutually parted ways. _

_Within half a year after departing from Lemaroy, Yuuri and I got married._

_Yuuri did not expound than what I've just written. He ended by stating matter-of-factly that my relationship with Mael was trouble. I asked Yuuri to tell me more because for once—since he started recounting the story of my life—nothing felt familiar, as if everything about this segment of my life was fabricated, as if this Mael never existed. Yuuri refused firmly and reasoned that that particular past was meant to be left behind. I did not insist. I could not help but be detached to something I could not remember experiencing. In fact, Yuuri's betrayal during our first engagement barely evoked any emotion. Perhaps the lack of memory gave me a perspective similar to that of a newborn child: I could only feel and react to the moment as it presented itself._

_As mentioned earlier, today I wish to focus on my beloved Yuuri…. _

_Mother once commented that Yuuri used to have short hair and big round eyes. When I brought this up to Yuuri, he provided me with old photos. He laughed wholeheartedly when I said the younger him looked too innocent, almost naïve… wimpy even. I could hardly believe the boy at the photo was the same person as the man beside me. _

_You see, the Yuuri I met twelve months ago was a man with commanding presence—tall and slender, black hair that reached his collarbone, and beautiful black almond-shaped eyes—and appeared in control of everything. _

_Yuuri said—in a bitter undertone—that I used to love him more when he was a "wimp." Of course I was not convinced. It was then that I confessed that I couldn't possibly be more enamored with anyone but the man before me now: strong and resolute, with a tender, passionate side reserved solely for me. I told him that he certainly had the most exotic eyes in this world; on Earth, I had seen many of the same color but none compared to the enticing eyes he possessed. His low voice never failed to calm the nerves; or perhaps it was the way he spoke, the confidence exuded, that nothing—even the direst situation—seemed hopeless. And whenever we made love—which was quite often, if not each chance we get to be alone—it was as if he aimed to please every inch of my body more than his own. _

_While we're on the subject of intimacy, I must admit that at first I was utterly embarrassed with my actions; that despite Yuuri being almost a stranger all over again, it took less than a month for me to be intimate with him. Yuuri comforted me by saying that the body could not forget what the mind did. Maybe he's right. Our bodies fit perfectly after all. _

_As for the spiritual, emotional aspect in our marriage, not a single flaw existed. Since I awoke, we were never apart for more than a couple of hours. In fact, I can almost sense him on his way here, with our two-year-old human son, straight from the baths of one of our two homes, Covenant Castle—our other home is on Earth and is actually the house of Yuuri's parents._

_Now that I've mentioned our son, let me put on record that he was named after Yuuri; hence the name Yuuritter. Yuuri openly disliked his name but according to him, before Yuuritter was born, I insisted on passing on the name to our first son. He conceded to please me, but added a "tter" at the end. He claimed that "ritter" meant "knight" in Germany, a country on Earth. Hence the name "Yuuritter."_

_I must note that Yuuritter was conceived from Yuuri's sperm, not mine. With the help of advanced science on Earth and a willing surrogate mother, Yuuritter was created. Being the loving husband that he was, Yuuri kept reiterating that I played a crucial part in Yuuritter's conception. He said I was responsible for inducing the ejaculation of the millions of potential Yuuritter. Whenever Yuuri went on and on about such, I would end up laughing at endless repetitive explanations. Perhaps he feared that I'd be suspicious—I heard I used to be very possessive—and felt he had to emphasize that he did not betray me a second time by copulating with the surrogate mother, which he certainly did not do for Yuuritter to be conceived._

_A week after I awoke, Yuuritter uttered his first word. I could hardly believe my ears when it was "Wolf," as Yuuri called me, which he first spoke. Yuuri was the only one who could have taught Yuuritter my name while I was asleep. It was the first indication that Yuuri desired for us to be a real family. Now, I must confess that Yuuri's efforts at family bonding could get a bit too much, almost desperate, sometimes. When I told him to relax and stop forcing Yuuritter to climb all over me every minute, he became upset. He then told me that for years I had longed for a son and should show more gratitude for what we have. I had to assure him incessantly that I adored Yuuritter. _

_Then, I began to wonder when in my stolen past did I crave for a son. Yuuri refused to explain, he merely stated it was from long ago._

_Before I forget, let me write down what they—Yuuri and Conrart—said happened the day I was assaulted and suffered multiple injuries which ended in memory loss. Yuuri and I were at a hot springs in Cimaron—the new name of two countries united a decade ago: Small Cimaron and Big Cimaron—ruled by the beautiful but lecherous King Saralegui. Yuuri left me alone in the warm water. By the time he returned, I was already unconscious, left fingers broken, and head bashed against the rocks. They said my wedding ring was never stolen; therefore could not have been attempted theft. Whoever did it was never found and motive unknown._

_Conrart said I was out for three months and that Yuuri used his healing powers on me every single day. I awoke in our bed in the Maoh's chamber. When they realized I knew nothing, not even my name, Yuuri transported me to Earth. The best doctors were consulted but none of them could cure my amnesia, which was what they all claimed I suffered from. Once, Gisela—our military physician in Shin Makoku—tried her healing magic on me. It resulted in a series of migraine. After that, Yuuri forbade anyone, healers and physicians alike, to get near. He said amnesia was temporary and it was unnecessary to force recovery prematurely._

_Since the assault, Yuuri had assigned guards to protect me around-the-clock. In fact, there are four outside this studio at the moment. Incidentally, I'm at the studio where—I'd been told—I used to paint to pass time whenever Yuuri was away on Earth. _

_Today I excused myself from our daily family bath. In a couple of hours there will be a conference among representatives and rulers from various nations. Because of this, I requested some private time before I focus my attention to memorizing the guests' names and faces. I wanted to start a daily record in case I find myself at a loss again. A great deal has yet to be written. If I could, I'd put down every little detail about this life with Yuuri. I never want to forget these special moments—_

Wolfram looked up from his journal when he heard the door open. He cast a glance over his shoulder and left the writing desk instantly at the sight of the approaching figures: a tall, slender man in a black tailored suit who wore a slight frown; and a chubby two-year-old in his arms who beamed at Wolfram.

Halfway the ample studio, Wolfram met the tall man who was his husband, Yuuri, and the toddler in his arms who was their son, Yuuritter.

"Did you have fun without me?" Wolfram asked.

"Woof! Ooof!" the child called out, wiggling stubby fingers to reach the sparkling ruby brooch on top of the navy blue fabric drawing closer. "Gimme, imme, spawky, Woof Popa!"

"It's _Papa Wolf_, Yuuritter," Yuuri whispered low in the toddler's ear. He then handed Yuuritter over to Wolfram. The frown disappeared for a moment, replaced by a one-sided smile as he watched his beautiful husband take their son gently in his arms and touch the round face with his lips.

"Mmm… my baby smells delicious!" Wolfram said, planting noisy kisses on an ear, down to the short neck. "Yummy, yummy, mmm!"

A gurgling laughter escaped the toddler's lips as he finally tore off the large red stone from the navy blue suit.

While Wolfram affixed the brooch back on his shoulder, he watched his husband from the corner of his eye. Yuuri settled himself comfortably on the large sofa—a daybed he purchased for Wolfram's use in case of an onset of migraine—beside an easel. The dark brows wrinkled in thought once again.

"What's the matter, darling?"

Yuuri gave a dismissive shrug. "Nothing that should concern my gorgeous better half," he replied, patting the space beside him.

Wolfram sat down with the toddler on his lap, stroking and pulling back the stretched out short arms in the direction of the white cloth which covered the easel. He then leaned over and kissed Yuuri on the lips.

"Your gorgeous better half missed you so," Wolfram said softly.

A black eyebrow shot up. "Oh? And whose idea was it to skip out on our family bath?" Yuuri reminded lightly.

"I see," Wolfram said. "Is that the reason for your disapproval?"

"You know I just realized the position of that desk has to be changed. At the moment, anybody can sneak up behind you," Yuuri remarked out of the blue. He then called out loudly, "Pascal! Mathis!"

The door swung open at once. Two guards stood in attention. "Your Majesty," they said in unison.

"Kindly turn around His Majesty's desk," Yuuri said. "Have it face the door instead."

While the guards carried out the light task, Wolfram studied his overprotective spouse's profile. "So tell me what's bothering you so early in the day. It can't simply be because of a desk."

"Sorry, Wolf, but you're no longer to join the conference today," Yuuri said quietly, with eyes on the guards who were almost done with their work. "Everyone showed up surprisingly."

"What? I don't understand. Surely we've enough seats," Wolfram said, releasing the wriggling restless child off his lap. With arms crossed over his chest, he watched their son wobble around the studio. "Besides, even if more arrived than anticipated, you must make room for your husband, the _king consort_. Or are you afraid I'll embarrass you with lack of knowledge in certain issues? How can I learn if you don't expose me to the world? I insist, I must attend the—"

"Pascal, Mathis, that is much better. Thank you," Yuuri declared abruptly, motioning for the guards to leave.

Once the door was shut, Yuuri stood up from the sofa and walked over to Yuuritter. "I've arranged for a carriage and additional security for you and our son. Have a picnic, visit town, go shopping, go wherever you desire," Yuuri said. "If you don't spend enough quality time with Yuuritter, he'll feel neglected. You know very well how that will displease him."

_Him… or you?_ Wolfram wanted to quip but held his tongue. From the moment they entered the studio, he had already noticed that his husband was not in the best of mood. Yuuri was usually the one who initiated a kiss, struck a pleasant conversation, and certainly did not evade questions.

Fortunately for Wolfram, over the short time, he had learned the easiest way of loosening a tightlipped Yuuri.

Wolfram soundlessly sneaked up behind his husband and slid hands along the lean yet muscular torso covered in black garment. He then pressed his face and breathed against the dark hair covering the nape he knew so well.

"Yuuri," Wolfram murmured, "I want to hear you introduce me as your husband—declare to all of them that I'm your beloved."

"They're well aware of who you are, love."

"Don't you want me beside you?"

"Always," Yuuri replied, throwing a distant smile over his shoulder. "Not today though."

"Why not?" Wolfram's fingers ran along his husband's chest suggestively. Nipping lightly on an earlobe, Wolfram then whispered, "How much time do we have before the conference starts?"

Yuuri stopped the wandering hands from going south. He turned around and cupped Wolfram's face. "Tempting as it may be, I'll have to take a rain check," Yuuri said, chuckling briefly when his husband appeared confused. "That means I will take up your offer later."

Wolfram took the hands away from his face and placed them on his backside, grinding his hips against Yuuri's and pressing their lower limbs together. With a pout, Wolfram said, "I don't trust that King Saralegui. If he can openly devour you with his eyes when I'm beside you, then what more when I'm not around?"

"He's not here. He sent Berias instead." Yuuri detached himself gently from Wolfram.

"You're so… _cold_. I don't like it," Wolfram complained with a scowl. "Why must I not attend this important meeting? You owe me an explanation."

"It's not that important. We're merely helping less fortunate nations negotiate with those who are better-off."

"Less fortunate… Then I suppose Greta's here, too. Oh, for Shinou's sake! Why didn't anyone bother to inform me she has arrived? Incidentally, why was I not provided a list of attendees?" Wolfram said, his tone going up several notches. "Are my feelings and views that unimportant? Am I insignificant around here?"

"Don't be silly. We both know that's not true," Yuuri said chidingly as he stooped down to kiss Yuuritter. He then straightened up and added, "Greta's not here, by the way. Ah, I must go. Your ever faithful Captain Pharamond has been assigned to look after you in the meantime."

Yuuri turned around and left the studio, leaving behind his irate husband. For a long while, Wolfram controlled the heaving of his chest and curbed the urge to follow Yuuri.

Wolfram silently watched as Yuuritter discovered the old stuffed animals from the only closet in the workroom. Deeming that nothing around would bring harm to the young child, he went behind the writing desk and decided to continue where he left off:

_If there is one thing I'm not pleased with, it would be that people often treat me like an invalid. Up to now I can't fathom how Yuuri decides which conferences I should and should not attend. For instance, he said today's meeting was of little importance yet he forbade my presence. On the other hand, he could be protecting me—from what exactly, I do not know. Gwendal informed me—sounding like the proud brother he was—that Yuuri used to send me to negotiate in neighboring countries alone. But that was before I lost my past. I only hope in time I earn Yuuri's confidence again. I refuse to be diminished—_

A loud coughing interrupted Wolfram's thoughts. He found Yuuritter atop a sand bear Gwendal made long ago, surrounded by a cloud of powder-like particles.

"Honey, are you all right?"

Squealing in delight, Yuuritter nodded as he held on to the donkey-like ears and rode the old black and white animal.

"Diggyup! Yup! Up!" Yuuritter shouted enthusiastically before coughing uncontrollably again.

Wolfram rushed to his son and whisked him away from the dust-covered stuffed animal.

"Let's get some fresh air, shall we?"

"Ohno! Nooooo!" Yuuritter objected strongly, kicking and wriggling his way out of his father's hold. "Wannadiggyup, Woof! Noooo!"

OooooooooO

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Kyou Kara Maoh!_ or any of its characters. I do not make money from these writings.

**Warnings**: Themes contained in this writing are not suitable for minors. If you are under 18 years of age, do not proceed.

**Beta-reader**: none

**Ambivalence **

**Chapter Two**

"Yoowee! Yoowee!" Yuuritter wailed, sniveling and burying his nose into Wolfram's armpit. "Gimme Yoowee Popa!"

When Wolfram felt his son's forehead brushing his left shoulder, he immediately cradled Yuuritter's head and rested it on the other side, where there was no rough edged ornament that was his ruby brooch.

"Hush now, my darling baby," Wolfram cooed, stroking the back of his two-year-old son. "Papa Yuuri may not be here but Papa Wolf is."

Yuuritter merely whimpered in response.

Wolfram shook his head. Yuuri had spoiled their child, he thought while walking down the hall. In front of them was Pharamond, the Captain of the von Bielefeld Army, who led the way to ensure the ground under them was safe to traverse, and behind were four other soldiers-turned-bodyguards instructed to pounce on suspicious looking strangers or known enemies within a few feet from the royal family.

It was a sunny morning, and despite the autumn breeze it seemed warm enough to stay outdoors. However, Wolfram had no intention of leaving Covenant Castle for the day. Thus he advised Pharamond that he wished to spend the next couple of hours in the courtyard, right outside where the conference was being held.

Once they reached the open area, Wolfram saw Gisela, the green-haired military physician who was the adopted daughter of Yuuri's adviser, Gunter von Christ. She was sitting across another young woman. Atop their white-painted wrought iron table were tea and a wide assortment of pastries.

The woman with Gisela had brown tresses which cascaded behind her simple yet elegant peach gown. Though her neck and wrists were slender, there was a slight swelling under her ample bosom. Wolfram then presumed she was an expectant mother. Two men in navy blue uniform stood under the shade of a tree a good thirty feet away from the women; and from the way they appeared to be watching Gisela's guest, anyone could tell that they were her bodyguards.

When Gisela's head turned in their direction, her wide smile froze and no longer reached her eyes. The woman across Gisela didn't seem to notice any change in her companion's expression and continued to stare straight ahead. As Wolfram approached the table—with Yuuritter sniffling in his arms—he observed the woman's profile up close. Her eyes were the palest shade of blue and seemed to be sightless.

Wolfram feigned a frown directed at Gisela who appeared uncomfortable all of a sudden, glancing behind her where nothing stood except the chamber where the meeting among representatives and rulers of various nations was currently taking place.

"Not happy to see us?" Wolfram teased one of his—according to Yuuri—few _real_ friends. Motioning to the empty seat between the women, he then asked, "Mind if my upset baby and I join you?"

Gisela let out a short, nervous laugh. "Why would I mind His Majesty's company?" she said, looking over her shoulder again.

The woman across Gisela inclined her head. "His Majesty?" she asked, her voice gentle, her expression kind. "Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, her white-gloved fingers poised over her pink lips. "Wolfram?"

"Yes, that is me, Ma'am…?" Wolfram paused and waited expectantly on Gisela for introduction.

Gisela seemed to have forgotten her manners and remained tightlipped, glancing at Pharamond as if for approval. Wolfram looked behind in time to see Pharamond nod at Gisela. This triggered Wolfram's suspicions.

While Pharamond pulled out a chair for Wolfram, the latter muttered, "You owe me an explanation later."

Pharamond nodded again and smiled in agreement.

When the woman started to stand up, both bodyguards of hers rushed to her side to pull out the rather heavy seat. The woman then bowed at Wolfram's direction and said, "It's me, Reine Odile—everyone calls me Reine now, but you've always known me as Odile. I had asked for you earlier but was informed you were about to leave the castle grounds."

Though the woman named Reine Odile could not see, Wolfram bowed in return before sitting down.

Wolfram caressed the back of his now peaceful son. "I'm afraid I've lost my past," he explained matter-of-factly to the woman who sounded on familiar terms with him. He heard Yuuritter sucking his thumb and felt the steady breathing on the side of his neck. In a quieter tone, he added, "Do tell me please how we met and what I was to you."

"But His Highness is falling asleep," Gisela remarked all of a sudden.

Wolfram threw a halfhearted glare at the physician who had somehow insinuated that any conversation would disturb Yuuritter. She was hiding something which was shattering her usual composure. This only made Wolfram even more curious.

"Oh? Is His Highness with you as well?" Reine asked quite eagerly.

When Reine smiled, her eyes wrinkled at the corners, but the light blue orbs remained lifeless. Though her pleasant, warm disposition was admirable, Wolfram felt a sudden ache for the woman who was no more than a stranger at his current state.

"Have you been introduced to this little man before?" Wolfram asked, stroking Yuuritter's shiny, black hair.

"The opportunity never came up, but you've often spoken of him in correspondence and whenever we…." Reine's voice trailed off, her thick lashes lowered to veil the unseeing eyes.

"Whenever we what?" Wolfram asked.

"She has visited here before, Your Majesty," Gisela interjected. "You would tell her about Yuuritter all the time. Isn't that right, Reine?"

When Reine lowered her head, Wolfram—though unconvinced—dismissed it as a nod. He then changed the subject: "I see you're expecting. You and your husband must be eagerly anticipating your child's birth."

A tender smile graced Reine's lips. "This is our first child. I can tell he's going to be healthy."

"She's a healer as well and we know these things," Gisela explained to Wolfram.

"I'm happy for you," Wolfram said. He then felt Yuuritter stirring in his sleep. Not wanting to awaken the toddler, Wolfram gently eased him from his chest and cradled him in his arms. As soon as the toddler sucked at his thumb again, Wolfram asked, "Incidentally, which country are you from? We must have been good friends in the past for me to send correspondence about my family. Unfortunately…."

"I understand your situation," Reine said. "I know you have many queries. Instead of providing words that may not be entirely accurate, may I try to return your memories instead?"

"That may not be a wise idea," Gisela remarked in an undertone.

Wolfram regarded Gisela with disbelief and disapproval. "Just because you failed—which caused Yuuri to lose faith in healers—doesn't mean everyone else is as useless," he remarked evenly.

Gisela appeared disconcerted, if not apologetic, and lowered her head

Though Wolfram expected Gisela—like everybody else—would be used to his past and present straightforwardness, he was also aware that anyone would be wounded by the harsh words. He then heaved a sigh.

"Though I meant what I said, forgive me for not considering your feelings, Gisela. I feel left out on many things today, that's all." To Reine, Wolfram said, "If you could help me recover even just a portion of my past, I'd be utterly grateful."

Smiling and nodding, Reine raised a gloved hand. One of her bodyguards approached their table. "May I have the item please?" she said.

Reine was given a small item wrapped in an embroidered cloth—which looked like a woman's handkerchief—secured by a string at the center. She then motioned for the bodyguard to leave. The moment she no longer sensed his presence, she held out the object toward Wolfram.

"Please don't unwrap it here," Reine said in a hushed voice once Wolfram took the cloth proffered. "Inside are roots of a plant forbidden to leave my country; they cannot be exposed for long outside another land. In addition, if a pregnant woman's flesh comes into contact with the roots, either her baby or the roots would lose magical powers."

Wolfram wondered why Reine procured the plant despite the risks involved. Because he couldn't think of anybody else she possibly prepared it for, he wondered why she wanted to help him. Were they that close in the past? Before he could voice this query, Reine gave instructions:

"Brew a root for an hour until it turns white and the water green. Drink the liquid before you sleep and place the root against your scalp—at the center of your head. I was only able to get five roots, which means you can return to your past only five times."

Gisela shook her head, eyeing the object disapprovingly. "King Yuuri would not allow this. He has forbidden anyone to interfere with His Majesty's natural recovery. If—"

"That's why I need your help, my friend," Wolfram interrupted. "You will brew it for me."

Gisela looked horrified, her eyes widened in alarm and mouth left open.

"Oh, Gisela," Wolfram said, "he won't find out unless someone tells him."

"But if you suffer from migraine again, he'll have to be informed," Gisela argued. "He'll be displeased and will be even stricter with whom you're allowed to interact with."

"Your husband has changed," Reined said. "Quite drastically."

"Excuse me?" Wolfram asked, surprised and unsure whether that was a compliment or an insult.

"From what I've been told, everyone was innocent in his eyes and that he never gave up hope," Reine replied. "Perhaps the assault you suffered shattered his trust and optimism."

Pharamond approached their table and cleared his throat conspicuously. When Wolfram glanced up, Pharamond motioned to the chamber facing the courtyard. Laughter and booming voices were heard. Rulers and representatives of various nations began to emerge from the open wide doors.

"Are they through?" Reine asked. Before anyone could answer, she told Wolfram with great urgency, "I'm certain that my husband would wish to depart immediately. Thus I must inform you now that although the magic of those roots have been passed on for generations, I've personally known only one who had tried it—my late mother-in-law. Before she passed away, she mentioned that the roots turn black sometimes. Whenever that happened, she ended up dreaming of a dark past. The decision is yours if you want to discard it when that happens. However, if you want to discover who attacked you…."

"I understand. And I agree," Wolfram said, smiling at the woman who appeared genuinely concerned in retrieving his memories. "I sincerely appreciate your effort. I'll let you know if it's effective."

This seemed to please Reine who then leaned against the chair. "I hope you dream of the last time we met," she said. "Maybe it will help you and your husband find—"

"Your Majesty, please!" Gisela interrupted, holding out a hand to Wolfram while looking over her shoulder.

It took a few seconds for Wolfram to realize what Gisela was asking of him. "Thank you, Gisela," he said, handing over the roots wrapped in a handkerchief. "Kindly prepare one for me after dinner. Even if it turns black, I'll take it."

A small group of gentlemen headed their way. The bodyguards of Reine, as well as Pharamond and all four bodyguards of Wolfram surrounded the table instantaneously.

"Oh, what's this?" a bespectacled bearded man dressed in fine custom-made suit asked. He stood behind Gisela, which was the only space that had not been blocked by uniformed guards.

A lanky man with bad skin and yellow crooked teeth remarked with sardonic amusement, "My, my, these people are treated like treasures that even honorable people like us would be tempted to steal."

Snickers and echoes of agreement came from a few men behind, peering over each others' shoulders to see whom the bodyguards were protecting.

"There is nothing honorable in intruding in a private conversation," Wolfram retorted. With Yuuritter in his arms, he curbed the urge to summon his fire magic and set ablaze the garments of the ill-mannered nobles. "As well as disturbing a sleeping child."

"Is this the hospitality Shin Makoku is famous for?" the man with bad skin and crooked teeth asked wryly. "Especially from the nation's king consort."

"Well, General Koola, let me remind you that this golden-haired vision is the same feisty captain who came to see us over a decade ago," the bearded man said. "He's special—_very_ special."

"Pardon me King Neevo," Pharamond said respectfully to the bearded man, "I'm afraid I would have to ask you and your company to leave His Majesty and His Highness to enjoy their private time."

"Is it just me or are we being treated like peasants here?" the bearded bespectacled man named King Neevo asked around. The five men with him grumbled their agreement.

Upon hearing the slight commotion, Yuuritter opened his eyes slowly. He then sat up on his father's lap. His gaze swept the faces around and didn't find the man he was looking for.

Yuuritter glanced up at Wolfram. "Wew Yoowee? Wewis Yoowee Popa?" Yuuritter asked loudly, the tiny but clear voice resounded through the courtyard. "Wew?"

A cackle was heard from somewhere, followed by a taunting remark: "_Pewhaps_ if you expose _yow_ child to _nowmal_ people, he'd speak _pwopowly_."

Another annoying cackle echoed through the courtyard, accompanied by growing murmurs.

Wolfram started to get up from his seat and bellowed, "Show your face, you bast—"

"Who said that?" a resonant voice demanded.

Then, Yuuri emerged from the small crowd gathered behind Gisela. He bent over to kiss Wolfram on the forehead. Afterward, he took the toddler with outstretched arms. Yuuritter gurgled in delight upon seeing Yuuri.

"Thew yoo aw!" Yuuritter squealed, embracing Yuuri's neck.

"Who had the audacity to insult my son?" Yuuri repeated, regarding everyone with contempt. "And why are you harassing my family?"

The lanky man called General Koola started to explain calmly: "King Yuuri, we simply came over for warm greetings. We didn't mean to offend your family."

"In fact, we're the ones insulted," the bearded man called King Neevo said. "Your security treated us as if we're carrying some contagious disease."

Yuuri began to laugh sardonically, while the guests watched in silent fear. Only Yuuritter dared to make a move, slapping his father's cheeks while laughing along with him.

When the mocking sound came to an abrupt stop, Yuuri's lips twisted into a wry smile as he glared at the bearded man. "Insolence _is_ a disease, King Neevo," he said to the ruler of Terin, an impoverished country in the south. "Corruption brought about by a corrupt ruler and his followers is a disease as well that's tearing your economy apart."

King Neevo appeared flustered. "Why, I… I—never mind," he muttered, shaking his head and holding up both hands in defeat. "I apologize for our earlier behavior. Let me assure you though that none of my men ridiculed His Highness's speech."

"The man who scurried off the moment you appeared, King Yuuri, must be the guilty one," someone remarked casually.

Then, a man who had the same build as Yuuri stepped forward.

"And, yes, he wasn't with these venal people who are indeed as corrupt as—Ah, what do I care for your country, really? As long as you pay your debts on time, there'll be no complaints," the newcomer said. His long silver hair tied in a ponytail swayed as his gaze swept the faces around. With a scowl, he rebuked, "What do you wish to accomplish by remaining where you're unwanted? Lunch is waiting inside, not here."

Though they were taunted like mere children, the men soon dispersed, mumbling apologies to Yuuri as they walked away.

Wolfram observed the newcomer with an air of nonchalance make his way toward Reine. The man's gray eyes appeared to regard everything with certain intensity; yet it also seemed to have seen a great deal of sorrow. And when he smiled at Reine, it was as if she was the only source of happiness in his life.

Wolfram couldn't help but approve of the way the man—presumably Reine's husband—assisted her out of the chair with gentleness and utmost care.

Reine bowed in Wolfram's direction. "It's been a pleasure, Your Majesty," she said, slipping an arm into the man's elbow. To Gisela, she said the same.

"The pleasure's all mine," Wolfram said as he stood up. Even if Reine could not see, Wolfram bowed at her, and then at the man escorting her. The man with piercing-yet-melancholic eyes, however, barely glanced his way.

When Reine's hip was about to collide with the back of a chair, the man placed a protective arm around her swollen waist, pulling her closer to him. For inexplicable reason, Wolfram thought that they looked beautiful yet maddeningly sad.

It was almost painful to watch.

Yuuri cleared his throat. Gisela excused herself while Pharamond and the guards returned to their previous positions a few feet away. Soon only the royal family was left at the table.

"This is why I asked you to take Yuuritter out of Covenant Castle for the day," Yuuri said, shifting Yuuritter from one arm to the other.

At the reproving tone, Wolfram—who was still studying the couple's every move until they disappeared under the archway leading to the receiving hall—turned to Yuuri. At the disapproving gaze he found, Wolfram's upper lip curled in objection.

"_You_ failed to _warn_ me that the guests lack breeding," Wolfram argued.

"No, that's not what I—" Yuuri shook his head and then said, "Yes, that ruler from Terin has always disliked you from way back."

"He's fortunate that I don't remember him. Otherwise I could've done real damage," Wolfram said, reaching out to wipe the corners of Yuuritter's eyes with his thumb. "Do you suppose he hated me enough to bash my head against the rocks? Just how many enemies do I have?"

"Very few are able to appreciate—or at least overlook—your brutal honesty. But before you were assaulted, I didn't think any of those affronted by you or find your frankness irksome would be a threat—that they would harbor enough resentment to attempt to dispose of you."

"Hmph! Once I find out who's responsible for my lost past, I'll bury him myself," Wolfram remarked. He then chuckled when Yuuritter grabbed his forefinger and placed it between toothless gums. "Ouch, that hurts. Are you hungry, honey?"

"He's always hungry. Let's have our lunch served here. Gunter and your brothers can entertain the guests for the meantime," Yuuri said, studying Yuuritter's smiling face. He then frowned. "_Wolf… _can't you even wipe his nose? I've been gone for only a short while and he's all snotty."

"Oh, quit complaining," Wolfram said, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket. While wiping Yuuritter's nose, he added, "Besides, you're the reason he cried. He kept looking for you as if you were his only father."

Yuuri sighed. "You see, this is exactly why you need to show him more affection."

"No, darling," Wolfram said, taking the toddler from Yuuri and into his arms, "he's always asking for you because you pamper him, whereas I'm the bad guy in his eyes. When he matures, he'll realize that I'm actually the better, responsible parent. I refuse to have people call him a 'brat'—like you said I used to be called behind my back."

"What did Odile have to say to you?" Yuuri asked out of the blue.

"Why do you keep covering my mouth, baby? Don't you like Papa Wolf's voice?" Wolfram asked, kissing the tips of the stubby fingers which kept playing with his lips. "You mean Reine? Nothing really. Incidentally, which country is she from?"

"Lemaroy."

_Lemaroy…. _

_As long as you pay your debts on time, there'll be no complaints._

Wolfram put together the man's words with said country, while Yuuritter pinched and played with his face joyously.

Shortly, Wolfram put the child down and allowed him to wobble along the cobblestone ground of the courtyard. He beckoned Pharamond, who then immediately understood the unspoken instruction to watch over Yuuritter.

When Wolfram straightened up, he found what he had already expected: Yuuri was gazing at him intently again. "Is the man with Reine an ambassador or is he—"

"He is none other than King Corentin Mael Fitzroy of Lemaroy. And the woman you were with is his wife, Queen Reine Odile," Yuuri said with hands on his hips. "To be honest, I was hoping you wouldn't see him today—or ever again."

"Aha! So that's why you suggested I leave Covenant Castle for the day," Wolfram said smugly, approaching his husband who continued to stare at him. He encircled Yuuri's neck with his arms and mimicked the pouting lips. "Oh, darling, were you afraid that I'd remember and fall in love with him again?" he teased.

With a wry twist of his mouth, Yuuri asked, "Did you?"

For a brief moment, Wolfram merely blinked in disbelief. "You're not serious, are you?" When Yuuri exhaled loudly in response, Wolfram added, "In case you've forgotten, I'm already married—to the man I happen to be obsessed with even though his questions could be utterly absurd sometimes."

"What exactly did you feel when you saw him?" Yuuri insisted, searching the emerald-green eyes of his spouse.

"Hmm… Perhaps I'd be envious of the love emanating from the couple," Wolfram answered sincerely as he met the expectant gaze, "_if _–and only if_—_I didn't already have a perfect life with you and Yuuritter."

"You didn't feel anything else?" Yuuri pressed on.

Wolfram leaned his forehead against Yuuri's and nuzzled the cold tip of the straight nose. He wanted to tease Yuuri, remark that the powerful Maoh's biggest insecurity seemed to be this man named Mael, but decided against it. He did not desire to fuel these foolish thoughts. Moreover, the fact that Reine wished for his memory to be restored could only mean that he and her husband were no more than innocent friends. At least, that's how Wolfram interpreted her willingness to help. Unfortunately, he couldn't mention to Yuuri what Reine gave him in fear that the roots would be confiscated.

"He's no more than just another name in my past but now with a face," Wolfram said matter-of-factly. "And from the short time I spent with Reine, I think she's a very kind person. I also think that anyone who even considers separating them would be lost in an abyss of guilt. When their child is born, I sincerely wish for them this blissful life we have."

The black orbs softened. "Truthfully?" Yuuri asked, clasping his hands together at the small of Wolfram's back. "Nothing seemed familiar at all?"

Wolfram rolled his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling you don't want my memory to return?"

"I do, but not your past with him," Yuuri answered easily, meeting the somewhat suspicious gaze. "I trust you'll inform me if you do begin to remember, am I correct?"

At the query, the roots from Lemaroy flashed in Wolfram's mind again. He had never lied to Yuuri, but—like Gisela—he knew that disclosing this information would bring everything to an end before it was even tested. And if the magic of the roots worked, should he dream of the past, he wondered if it would be wise to divulge such before he finished all five of them.

To conceal his brief hesitation, Wolfram feigned an annoyed sigh and said, "Yes. Yes. Yes."

"Yessss! Yesh! Eshhh!" Yuuritter shouted, followed by squeals of delight that resounded through the courtyard.

Both Yuuri and Wolfram glanced at their son and saw him chasing after Pharamond's sheathed sword.

A wide, mischievous grin spread across the recently sullen face. "You do know that while Yuuritter is taking a nap," Yuuri said, landing brief kisses on Wolfram's lips over and over, "I'm going to remind you of your earlier offer at the studio."

With a meaningful, lopsided smile, Wolfram said, "Well then, we better have lunch right away."

OooooooooO

TBC

**Author's Note: **That wraps up the introduction for this work. In chapter 3 we'll learn of the first dream… or nightmare. Special thanks to priscel for allowing me to use the line "beautiful yet maddeningly sad." Speaking of that description, I hope it isn't misinterpreted as Wolfram feeling jealousy toward the love he sensed Mael has for Reine. In his eyes, they truly appear beautiful together in a poignant kind of way—like a bittersweet story. About Yuuritter's speech, well, he can't pronounce "L" and "R" and speaks the latter as "W." Hence "Where" is "Wew." Anyway, I'm quite sure you figured this out a while back.

Except for one, I've replied to all the signed comments. Nevertheless, let me thank you again for sharing your thoughts. SoulReaper Rukia: your enthusiasm and candid opinions are much appreciated and enjoyed (I wasn't able to let you know sooner because your PM is disabled). For all the unsigned reviews: thank you very much for keeping me company. I sincerely am grateful.

Until next time, stay safe!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Kyou Kara Maoh!_ or any of its characters. I do not make money from these writings.

**Warnings**: Themes contained in this writing are not suitable for minors. If you are under 18 years of age, do not proceed.

**Beta-reader**: none

**Ambivalence**

**Chapter Three**

A cold, errant autumn breeze stirred Yuuri from slumber. The temperature in their chamber was rather low, though not enough to prompt him to his feet and close the tall windows. He shifted to his side and reached blindly for the familiar warmth, fingers landing along Wolfram's sinewy torso. He inwardly reveled at the dried traces of their earlier lovemaking, attested by the break of smoothness of the flesh beyond the rim of the navel all the way up to firm pectorals. He slipped a knee between parted limbs of his husband, nudging the inner thigh with viscous substance running along its length. They often ran out of condoms while in that world. That evening was one of those times, he recalled with a smirk. With eyes shut, he nuzzled the side of Wolfram's neck, inhaling the scent of sweat, soap, and said beloved's natural fragrance, mixed with his own saliva that laved every inch of the man.

_I adore this man… way too much_, Yuuri's mind whispered quite disapprovingly as he cuddled further.

Suddenly, a gasp was heard, accompanied by a brief shudder underneath his palm atop Wolfram's abdomen. His initial thought was that Wolfram was rousing and expressing approval toward his caress and nearness. Soon, however, he sensed the persistent sporadic breathing and nails scratching and clutching the sheet near his upper thigh. He then realized it was something else.

Yuuri willed his eyes to open. Once he grew accustomed to the dark, he found Wolfram's widely parted mouth drawing in short breaths. There was a rapid movement under the shut lids. Without warning, Wolfram's head tossed to either side.

"Wolf," Yuuri called concernedly. "Wolf." _He can't breathe!_ he thought with alarm.

In a state of frenzy, Yuuri had completely forgotten his ability to heal. For this reason, instead of dealing with the emergency promptly and efficiently, he pressed down a palm over Wolfram's chest, pumping frantically in an attempt to remove whatever was blocking the latter's airway. Yuuri's free hand found its way to Wolfram's shoulder to give it repeated firm shakes.

There was no change.

"What's the matter, love?" Yuuri asked, trying to remain calm.

Wolfram continued to gasp and beat his head against the pillows; every muscle in his limbs tensed; his perfect face contorted from what seemed like pain; and then he began to puff heavily, mouth shaped in a silent "O" for a few seconds before breaking into a grimace.

"Wolf!" Yuuri snapped finally, slapping the cold cheeks. "You're frightening me. Open your eyes. Please!"

A loud groan akin to a growl escaped Wolfram's throat. His entire form thrashed about: arms flailed, heels dug and slid along the sheet, as if either escaping from or rushing toward a certain place.

Yuuri moved to straddle the suddenly violent man. Using both arms, he raised and encircled Wolfram's upper body.

"Wolf!" Yuuri shouted, hugging his husband desperately. "Goddammit! Wake up!"

With a sharp gasp—like one emerging from near drowning—Wolfram opened his eyes. Shaking like a leaf, he started to weep uncontrollably, hysterically.

Although still anxious over his husband's state, Yuuri sighed in relief once he sensed the breath fanning his neck. "Shh… it's all right now," he murmured soothingly, stroking the shuddering back. "I'm here, love."

"He… can't… be… It's… my… fault." A soft, painful cry escaped Wolfram's lips.

"Shhh… calm down. It was just a nightmare," Yuuri said, tightening his embrace. "Everything's all right—"

"Oh, Aldric," Wolfram whispered in a choked voice.

Yuuri stiffened at the name which hadn't been uttered in many years.

"Aldric… Aldric…" Wolfram's chest heaved as he repeated for the last time, "Aldric!"

The piercing cry echoed in the Maoh's chambers. Soon after, there was a knock on the door. The guards, who called their attention from behind the wide double doors, were ignored. Yuuri's mind was now far removed from the present as he held his lamenting spouse. His breathing grew heavy as well. This time though his concern rooted from an entirely different matter: Could it be that Wolfram dreamt of the child from long ago? Or did his memory finally return? No. It simply was not possible. Unless….

The persistent rapping disrupted Yuuri's musing. He then bellowed, "Go away!" The angry tone surprised Yuuri himself. And the guards—like everyone else—would naturally speculate. To prevent the guards from presuming he was doing something unpleasant to his husband, he quickly added, "Everything's fine. His Majesty had a nightmare, that's all."

Wolfram repressed his emotions for a moment, enough to raise tearful eyes to Yuuri. "Was it nothing more than a nightmare?" Wolfram asked, a trifle hopefully. "Tell me, did this Aldric truly exist? Is he still…?"

Yuuri shook his head regretfully. "Don't beat yourself up all over again. It was an accident."

Wolfram groaned in despair. "Oh, no… no… It's all my—" Wolfram suddenly clutched his stomach, flung his upper body to the edge of the bed, and retched.

It was going to be a long, difficult night, Yuuri thought as he stroked Wolfram's back.

OooooooooO

When he came to, Wolfram found himself lying on the massive low bed in Yuuritter's chamber, adjacent to the Maoh's, well illuminated by candelabrums. Beside him was Yuuritter, sleeping peacefully with his short arms atop a thick blanket. It never ceased to amaze Wolfram how the energetic toddler appeared so disciplined when asleep, barely moving, just like his biological father.

After relieving a parched throat by gulping down half a pitcher of water he found on the bedside table, Wolfram walked over to the door leading to the Maoh's chamber. The beddings had been replaced, though he vaguely remembered when the servants had arrived. All he recalled was his string of unanswered questions amidst a breakdown brought about by a distressful dream. The light sedatives Yuuri had given—which he was quite sure he threw up a good portion of—calmed his nerves, but did nothing to the pressing weight in his chest.

Wolfram then resolved to write this glimpse of the past no matter how taxing. He wanted to get the journal from his studio, but didn't feel safe leaving Yuuritter alone. Thus he decided to wait for Yuuri. Wolfram asked the guards where his husband had gone to, and was informed that Yuuri went to see Gisela. Wolfram nodded: it was expected of Yuuri to consult with the healer about his state.

Only after the doors closed behind Wolfram did alarm set in. What if Yuuri interrogated Gisela, demanded what exactly transpired during their conversation with Queen Reine Odile by the courtyard? What if an intimidated Gisela owned up to be responsible for brewing the magical root? And where was the black root he had placed against his scalp after Yuuri had fallen asleep?

Wolfram dashed into the Maoh's chamber, his gaze swept every visible inch of the plush crimson carpet which exuded a tangy scent of shampoo. He then searched under the bed. The deep pile that was the carpet was so thick it could easily swallow anything slimmer than a pencil. On his knees, Wolfram's fingers fumbled underneath the bedstead.

After a while, Wolfram straightened up, cursing in failure. He then proceeded to the writing desk, reassuring himself that the maids—should they find the root within the sullied sheets—would presume it was nothing more than dirt from the soles of their boots.

Wolfram pulled out several pieces of parchment from the drawer of the antique bureau and poised Yuuri's fountain pen on the upper left side. His stomach suddenly seemed to disagree with what he was about to relive. Breathing deeply to counter the onslaught of emotions, he began to write:

_November 16, 4112_

_In the form of a dream, I had a glimpse of a day long gone. In that brief moment of my past, and though I still couldn't remember much of my life before and beyond that tragic morning, facts existed in the recesses of my mind—similar to how I was able to speak this world's language and conduct myself from the time I awoke with amnesia._

_The Queen of Lemaroy's heart began to fail when her husband, the king, was diagnosed of an incurable disease. She bore a healthy son, the second and youngest prince. Unfortunately, childbirth augmented her ailment. Alas, the King of Lemaroy passed away one stormy evening. It was that same night when my private army, led by yours truly, sought and found refuge in the Castle of Lemaroy, situated atop a rocky mountain along the coast. _

_Not long after the grieving queen dowager's firstborn, Mael, ascended the throne, she was rendered incapacitated. And because the child's governess, Reine Odile, was losing her vision, it was me and Mael who looked after the young prince in her stead. Over the years Mael and I cared for this child as if we were his parents. His name was Aldric._

_Everything written so far was merely a shroud of reality that surrounded the dream itself. The incident I revisited took place four years later, when Aldric was nine, but because of his Demon blood appeared the same age as Yuuritter now…._

_That last morning of our vacation started out the same as the previous thirteen days: perfect. Even the clouds massing nearby and the raging rapids across our log cabin could not ruin that autumn idyll of our family of three. _

_With Aldric's tiny hand in mine, we stood inside the small stable and watched my fiancé of almost four years, Mael, mount his horse. A messenger arrived earlier to inform Mael that a dispute arose among his royal advisers and required his intervention. I was willing to return to the gloomy castle, anywhere was fine as long as I was with Mael. However, Aldric insisted that we completed our two-week vacation. Because Mael and I had long agreed that that little man's happiness would be our priority for the rest of our long lives, Mael promised to return once he had resolved the situation. _

_I glanced up to meet my lover's dark gray eyes. I couldn't bring myself to offer even a faint smile. I was missing him already. Mael mouthed the words "I love you," and then nudged his horse forward. And when he was gone from my sight, I tried to fill the sudden emptiness by recalling the warmth of his lips and gentle caresses along every inch of my then sated, tender flesh. If not for Aldric's fingers tugging at mine, urging me to move, I knew I would have wept. If such temporary separation could render me weak, helpless, then it could only mean that I was madly in love with Mael._

"_Let's plunder the tigaburas," Aldric said, his voice tiny, his pronunciation flawless. "I look forward to marmalade and tea for dessert." He then took large steps, pulling me toward the riverbank. _

"_We're not 'plundering,' sweetheart," I corrected Aldric. My bare feet stumbled lightly over the wild grass as I pretended to be dragged by the child's strength. "I'm certain they're more than happy to share their produce."_

_As we drew closer to a tigabura, Aldric released my hand. "Then I shall make the most of such generosity," he said, running around a tree. _

_Tigaburas were trees, native to Lemaroy, that lined the banks of the white river—white because the water beating against the rocks created bubbles on the surface—and their roots strengthened the soil, preventing erosion. The trees weren't tall, averaging no more than fifteen feet, but with sturdy branches that extended twice the height of their trunks. The round leaves made light, refreshing tea; the fragrant purple flowers served as our hand soap and scented the water in our cabin's wooden tub; and the bell-shaped green fruits contained a pulpy interior akin to oranges in appearance and taste. Aldric, though, always enjoyed the marmalade I'd made from the rind more than the juice tigabura was famous for._

_The sight of Aldric soon alleviated the ache brought about by Mael's absence. Aldric's wide gray eyes gleamed in delight; his short, curly silver locks bounced as he jumped with outstretched arms at every drooping branch, attempting to reach a dangling fruit. Aldric was miniature version of Mael, except the latter's hair was long and straight, and had eyes that pierced with certain intensity. I scooped up Aldric and sat him across my shoulders in order for him to reach the fruits. In no time, Aldric was laughing wholeheartedly as he filled the large front pocket of his overalls—a present from Yuuri, who had heard of but had never met the boy whom I spoke fondly of—with leaves, flowers, and bell-shaped fruits. I must admit that this child's happiness was infectious. Both Mael and I enjoyed pampering him because his smile alone had the power to brighten the bleak Castle of Lemaroy. _

_When red ants stung my bare toes, I reluctantly told Aldric that we had to go inside. At first Aldric refused to leave, but upon hearing that the red ants were growing aggressive—and he hated red ants the most—he finally consented and, as mentioned earlier, he was our little big boss. _

_Once we were inside our beautiful, cozy log cabin, we worked on the marmalade. Aldric, sitting on his high stool, helped me peel and slice each fruit rind. He spoke nonstop, conceiving plans for next autumn. Then, he asked when his mother's heart was expected to become stronger, enough for her to get out of bed and chamber, and if Odile's dwindling eyesight would ever improve. I had no answers to provide; optimism was all I could offer._

_While our sliced peel was simmering in water, honey, and fruit juice, I heated the water in the wooden tub. Then, I bathed with Aldric. _

_Up to now I clearly remember the feel of his soft skin under my fingers, his bubbly voice continue to ring in my ears, those sparkling innocent eyes regarding me with affection still warm me, his round tummy—shrinking and expanding as he laughed—makes me smile even now, and the trail of wet kisses he left still linger on my face. How could I have forgotten this special person in my life?_

Wolfram paused and parked Yuuri's fountain pen beside the parchment. There was a sudden sting at the back of his eyes, and an ache had formed in his throat. He returned to Yuuritter's chamber and drank another glass of water.

When Wolfram's eyes fell on the sleeping toddler, he found a stubby thumb inside the hungry mouth. He quickly prepared a bottle of warm milk. Once he had replaced the thumb with the silicone nipple, he stroked the black hair away from the serene chubby face. A sudden question appeared in his mind: Was Aldric the reason Yuuri had mentioned he had long yearned for a son? Wolfram could only imagine how devastated he was after that day in his dream. How many years did he lament and blame himself? Yuuri, who most probably helped him through it all, had it real hard. His husband's unconditional love and devotion made Wolfram smile through the unshed tears gathering in his eyes.

Wolfram kissed Yuuritter's cheeks, nose, and eyebrows carefully so as not to awaken him. He then returned to the writing desk in the Maoh's chamber. After a deep breath, he resumed where he left off:

_The log cabin's kitchen and dining area faced the living area furnished with long sofas and rocking chairs. The aforementioned rooms took half of the space, while the other half was composed of the master's bedroom, which we had assigned as Aldric's room, and the bathroom. Above Aldric's room was a loft where Mael and I slept in. _

_An old tigabura stood right outside the cabin, its long branches extended above the rapids and also reached the windows of the loft. During early mornings, Aldric would go upstairs to join me and Mael in bed. Mael and I weren't keen on Aldric climbing the steep stairs frequently, but the child reasoned that he enjoyed the view of the river, which was around twenty-five feet away. I told Aldric that the view was the same, if not better, from his room. It was then when he pointed out that he couldn't pick fruits, leaves, and flowers from where he slept. That afternoon, there was hardly any fruit or flower left within reach from the loft, all had been plucked out by Aldric a few days back… I suppose… I can't remember exactly when. Small details prior to that time appeared to me only in brief images—similar to one looking at a photo album._

_Rain poured down while we were having a bath. The downpour worsened over lunch. After tea, I read Aldric a book. Although I was concerned about possible landslides along the narrow road Mael would take on his return, I remained calm. _

_The rain had not let up long after Aldric had fallen asleep. And Mael hadn't returned yet. I drank a whole pot of tea while trying to read a book, but not a single word was absorbed by my fretful mind._

_Once the pattering on the glass windows had finally ceased, I donned my coat and left Aldric napping in the loft. I went to the stable, got on my horse, and headed toward the main path. Thick clouds continued to veil a great portion of the sky, but dusk was a good hour away. And while there was still light, I wanted to go as far as I could. _

_I hadn't gone far though when I heard my name shouted. I glanced over my shoulder and looked at the window of the loft, then at the window of Aldric's room, and finally at the window of the living room. Aldric's figure was nowhere in sight. _

_Aldric shouted my name again. That time I clearly heard him say, "Wolfram, help me!"_

_Although I still couldn't perceive where he was calling me from, I quickly turned the horse around and headed back. A few paces later I heard a high-pitched scream, cut abruptly by a loud snap. It was then when I remembered that Aldric had always wanted to climb a tree. But it was the one thing we prohibited him to do. He may be nine years old, but, as mentioned earlier, was no bigger than a two-year-old human. I looked up at the tigabura outside the loft and found Aldric clutching a branch with both hands. The end of another branch—presumably the one I heard break—was caught in the folds of his overalls._

"_Ants!" Aldric started to cry, and I knew then that the red ants bit him. Aldric rarely cried, except when in extreme pain or when afraid, and he feared red ants the most. I, on the other hand, dreaded the raging waters below Aldric's feet. I urged my horse to move swiftly. _

_I had almost reached the tree when Aldric fell to the rapids. My heart stopped and my mind ceased functioning at that split second. _

_Aldric's screams pulled me out of shock. I nudged my horse to jump into the river. But the horse reared back, frightened by the violent water, and threw me off. As I scrambled to my feet, Aldric shouted my name repeatedly; his cries for help were often cut short and grew weaker as the river's merciless current dragged him farther away. _

_I ran. As fast as my limbs would take me, I ran the length of the deadly river. I could no longer see Aldric's head, there were too much bubbles as water continuously splashed over the large rocks. On Earth there was this clichéd line on those about to meet death saw their lives flash before their eyes. That moment, while I ran for Aldric's dear life, I saw glimpses of his short life with me and Mael: the nights Mael and I took turns to feed him when he was much younger; the countless times he slept in my arms; the many waking moments brought about by his moist kisses; how he loved to hug me and how his chubby chest felt against mine; and so much more images, accompanied by a surge of emotions, appeared until I was sobbing uncontrollably while running like crazy. _

_I knew that at some point there would be a steep drop as the river turned into a waterfall. And so I finally jumped into the rapids, hoping the river's swift current will carry me to Aldric faster. My head was tossed and my body was hurled against rocks, but at that point there was no fear for my life. All I could think of was getting to Aldric. Water rushed to every opening in my head and I swallowed water. My chest heaved as I gasped for air, and all the while I kept my eyes open for Aldric._

_Just before I reached the steep descent, my leg got caught between rocks near the banks. I reached out for a large root, and was able to pull myself out of the river. With a hand against the trunk, I looked down the waterfall and gasped in horror. Cruel fate let me live through the torment of seeing Aldric in such a state: the small body was facing down, twisted, and trapped between large rocks. _

_I couldn't breathe. I wanted to shout. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I had never felt such pain before that moment. _

_Although my left ankle was sprained and it felt like I had dislocated some joints, I sprinted down the slope. Before long my injured limbs gave out and my entire body slid along the mud. I no longer saw where I was headed as tears clouded my vision. I was sobbing inconsolably again as my nails dredged up wet soil. Then, I hit the bottom and landed on my backside. _

_The dagger in my chest pressed deeper as I sat there, staring a few feet away from Aldric's lifeless form. After what seemed like an eternity of hell, I heard myself shouting at the top of my lungs, but my angry cry to the heavens didn't release any of the hurt. _

_I was about to cross the river to retrieve Aldric's body, but then I suddenly awoke in Yuuri's arms._

_Everything above was all that came to me in my dream, nothing more and nothing less. I was given a glimpse of my deep feelings for Mael and Aldric, but not all the four years we had spent together. There were also visions of the bedridden queen dowager, either smiling at her two children or regarding me with coldness, but all were brief episodes that appeared and left in a blink. Even the time when Yuuri had handed me the overalls for Aldric, and the moments Mael and I had spent with Aldric were all fleeting images. Except for that vivid recollection of the day I lost Aldric, the rest were merely flashes of memory. _

_I had found only a few pieces of a single frame of puzzle in my past. So much remained missing._

The fountain pen slipped from the shaking fingers.

Wolfram buried his face in his hands. He grieved over this great loss; he lamented his irresponsibility that robbed Mael of his cherished brother; and he mourned for the child the queen dowager never had the chance to know beyond the walls of her chamber. Now Wolfram understood the sorrow behind Mael's eyes.

Wolfram allowed himself to weep for Aldric whom he would never see, hear, and feel ever again.

When his sobs finally grew sparse, Wolfram felt a light touch on his back. He glanced at the side and found Yuuritter. Wolfram quickly brushed the tears from his face with the sleeve of his robe.

Yuuritter was pouting, frowning, his nostrils flaring. He appeared upset and concerned at the same time. "Wew Oof howt? Wew baddy?" he asked, looking around the chamber. "Me spak bad, bad, baddy!"

There was a new twinge in Wolfram's chest, and he both grimaced and laughed in pleasurable ache. Here was a bundle of joy before him, yet his heart chose to suffer in the past. He then reached for Yuuritter's forearm. "The _hurt_ and the _baddie_ are in here," Wolfram said, placing Yuuritter's hand over his chest.

Yuuritter hesitated and left his hand on his father's chest. Wolfram understood his son's dilemma: Yuuritter normally spanked the 'baddie' and kissed the 'hurt' away, but because they were both inside his father's chest, he didn't know what to do. Wolfram chuckled briefly before crying all over again.

So as not to frighten Yuuritter away, Wolfram embraced him tightly. "I love you. I love you. I love you," Wolfram whispered in a choked voice.

Yuuritter hugged his father in return. "Yuv yoo. Yuvoo. Uvoo."

OooooooooO

Four guards, slouching at the end of the hallway connecting the west wing to the main castle, straightened up immediately at the sight of the most powerful Maoh Shin Makoku has ever had. Yuuri nodded as he strode pass the guards, smiling in acknowledgement of the salutations received.

As he ascended the carpeted grand staircase, Yuuri replayed in his mind the conversation he had with Gisela a moment ago:

"_My husband awoke and suddenly remembered Aldric. I've lost faith in miracles long ago. All I could think of is that this happened within hours after he ran into Odile by the courtyard. Ah, and I also don't believe in coincidence, so don't bother giving me that possibility and provide me with answers instead. What did Odile do to Wolfram?"_

"_Is His Majesty all right? If he remembered Aldric then he must be terribly sad."_

"'_Terribly sad' is an understatement; hysterical is more appropriate."_

"_If you could wait a moment, I'll prepare medicine to calm the nerves and visit His Majesty—"_

"_I've given him sedatives to last the night. Now, don't evade my question, Gisela."_

"_They had a pleasant conversation about His Highness, Yuuritter. Nothing more. And if I may speak my mind, Your Majesty, despite the stress the past may bring, isn't it wonderful that His Majesty seems to be regaining his memories?"_

"_Absolutely not. I refuse to see my husband break down for god-knows-how-long again. We both know this is just the beginning. There'll be more ghosts of the past that will tear him—our marriage—apart."_

"_I don't understand… I thought you wanted him to recover. All the while I thought you were simply concerned about the migraines brought about by incompetent physicians."_

"_Don't play innocent, Gisela. You're far more intelligent than you're pretending to be. And being my husband's dear friend, you were privy to all his secrets. You must have been inwardly laughing at the fool I used to be—a naïve wimp who chose to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to my husband's… Ah, don't look at me with such compassion. I don't need your pity; what I need is an answer." _

"_Your Majesty, I assure you that Queen Reine Odile did nothing to His Majesty. She never touched him; she couldn't have used her healing magic. Moreover, if you're insinuating what I think you are, then why would she—of all people—want His Majesty's memory back?"_

"_You tell me. Then again, that woman will do anything to please her husband. She'd gladly hand him on a silver plate whatever and whomever he desires. The woman would be content as second best as long as she was of use to her selfish husband." _

"_Why do you dislike such a kind woman, Your Majesty?"_

"_Kind? Don't make me laugh, Gisela! Kindness doesn't include ulterior motive. Have you forgotten those cursed pair of rings? They were her family's heirloom, meant for her engagement to Mael. But knowing she could never satisfy him, she played the martyr by binding my husband's soul with Mael's using those damned rings. At first I thought it was stupid, but now I think it was a genius move. After all, she pleased Mael, and I'm positive he was utterly grateful—perhaps even indebted—to her for years."_

"_Your Majesty, has the world become so spiteful in your eyes?" _

"_Ah, look at the time, Gisela. Dawn is on its way. I'll have to trust you for now. However, should I discover that you know more than you let on, then you won't be spared from what you deserve."_

Yuuri raked his hair with his fingers as he walked along the passageway leading to his chamber. He had said too much, admitting Wolfram's recovery was no longer necessary, let alone wanted. He heaved a sigh, shaking his head in disapproval of his behavior. He had also left Gisela quite upset with his parting words; the remembrance of a seemingly lifeless Wolfram did that to the few witnesses.

"_Your Majesty, it breaks my heart to see you, hear you, like this. Whatever happened to the Maoh I met thirty years ago?"_

"_Oh, Gisela, that Maoh was gullible, weak, useless, pathetic, and he died the day his beloved's body was savaged."_

Yuuri, like the few others—Saralegui, Conrart, and Gisela—present on that grim evening, would never forget how they found Wolfram by the hot springs of Cimaron: Wolfram was bathing in a puddle of his own blood; his skull was almost open; his left fingers were crushed—one was torn off from its knuckle; and his body was battered and violated. Yuuri had ordered the others to remain silent about the sexual assault. He had to protect Wolfram's dignity. In fact, Wolfram himself was never informed he was raped. As for the severed finger, they found it on the ground, and had been reattached to Wolfram's hand while he was unconscious; another fact Yuuri didn't disclose to Wolfram.

The horror of that incident haunted Yuuri. Hatred and remorse tore him for months on end until Wolfram finally awoke. Yuuri had made acquaintance with insanity that night. He could not say that it had left him, but he was certain that he'd rather kill himself than allow Wolfram to suffer that fate again.

"Did anything happen during my absence?" Yuuri asked as he approached the guards outside Yuuritter's chamber.

Both guards saluted. One of them said, "His Majesty had asked for you, Your Majesty, and was informed that you paid Lady Gisela a visit."

Wolfram was awake. Yuuri's lips pursed as the unresolved matter suddenly resurfaced. Gisela could very well be lying. But one soul would probably be able to provide him with an answer: Shinou. However, a long absence would arouse Wolfram's suspicion. Therefore, the visit to the Tomb of the Great One had to wait.

Yuuri nodded to the guards, who then swung the doors of Yuuritter's chamber.

OooooooooO

"Yoowee!" Yuuritter squealed in delight at the sight of the tall, dark-haired man who had entered.

Wolfram lifted the toddler out of the bed and settled him on the carpet. Yuuritter wobbled toward his approaching father.

Yuuri scooped up his son and kissed the mouth which smelled of milk. "Good morning, Yuuritter."

"Mowny, Yoowee Popa," Yuuritter said, encircling Yuuri's neck affectionately.

Wolfram got to his feet. "I was missing you so, darling," he said, slipping his waist into the outstretched arm beckoning him. He then pressed his lips against Yuuri's puckered ones.

"Well, I'm certain that I miss this more than anything," Yuuri said, squeezing Wolfram's firm backside.

Wolfram studied his husband's face, something that wasn't always easy to do. Although Yuuri was grinning, Wolfram couldn't tell whether he had learned anything substantial from Gisela.

The corners of the upturned mouth turned downward. "Hmm? No blush, no hum of approval… I must be losing my touch," Yuuri remarked as he continuously kneaded Wolfram's buttocks.

Wolfram forced a smile and shifted his gaze to Yuuritter, who was then scratching the embroidery on Yuuri's silk night robe—identical to what he and their son had on. "Careful, Yuuritter loves to imitate his idol," Wolfram muttered, resting his head on Yuuri's shoulder. "We don't want him doing that to anybody just yet."

"How are you feeling?" Yuuri asked softly, stroking the fine blond hair.

"So-so," Wolfram answered with a shrug. "You already gave me sedatives. Why did you have to see Gisela?"

"I wanted to confirm if Odile had indeed tampered with your head."

"What did Gisela say?"

"Nothing. I'm hoping you can enlighten me."

There was no undertone in the statement; it was delivered matter-of-factly. And Wolfram appreciated the honesty, something he had not entirely given Yuuri since his chance encounter with Reine Odile. Wolfram momentarily wondered if he would regret keeping the existence of the magical roots from Yuuri who trusted him. But when in doubt, it was always wise to test the waters: "Would it be unforgivable if she did _help_ me?"

"Did she?"

Wolfram lifted his head and searched the black eyes staring back at him unflinchingly. After a few seconds, he shook his head, regretting the delay which only created room for doubt. To redeem himself, he said, "She could neither save her own eyesight, nor able to do anything about the queen dowager's ailment. So, seriously, how can she be capable of healing me? Besides, she never even offered."

"I see… You remember the queen dowager now, and the fact that Odile was not born blind. What else did you recall tonight? Surely Mael was also part of your nightmare."

Wolfram sighed in resignation. He was certain that he wouldn't hear the end of it until Yuuri was satisfied. And because the written account of his dream made no reference to the magical roots, he then suggested, "If you must know, then on your desk you'll find the details. Just make sure to return those sheets there because I'll insert them in my journal later."

This seemed to please Yuuri, who then settled an arm around his husband's shoulders. "Ah, I will do just that," he said, rubbing the slender upper arm.

"Mael must have resented me so," Wolfram remarked quietly.

"He followed his mother's wish and had you banished from their nation," Yuuri said. "And he made sure guilt haunted you for years. So, yes, I suppose he resented you."

"I can't blame them," Wolfram said, his heart sinking fast. He kissed Yuuritter's nose, released himself from Yuuri's warm hold, and then sat on the bed. With his face buried in his hands, he wallowed in remorse all over again.

Yuuri lowered the toddler to the floor and watched him walk over to the low shell that housed his toys. Afterward, Yuuri sat beside Wolfram.

"I still hear him calling _me_, crying for _my_ help. And I wasn't able to do anything as I watched his life fade before my eyes. Do you know how that feels?" Wolfram clutched the front of his robe, his chest constricting again.

"Don't start, love," Yuuri murmured gently, caressing the hunched back. "That past is long over. More importantly, it was an _accident_. Don't hold yourself responsible."

At the soft whimper that followed, Yuuri embraced his husband. "Do I make you happy? Does Yuuritter make you happy?" he asked quietly so as not be overheard by Yuuritter.

Wolfram nodded.

Yuuri then asked, "Do you love me? Do you love Yuuritter?"

Wolfram glanced up, frowning at the foolish queries. "Stop asking the obvious," he grumbled.

"Then why do you insist on dredging up your miserable past?" Yuuri asked, thumbing the tears caught by the thick lower eyelashes. "Yuuritter and I are here with you now. Live for us today and tomorrow."

"What if I'm not capable of being a good father after all?" Wolfram whispered, as if asking himself rather than Yuuri.

Yuuri cupped the chiseled face. He regarded the quivering lips and glistening green eyes. "Listen to me," he said slowly, gently, firmly. "Failure is _never_ an option in parenting. If you truly care for _our_ son, then you will _strive_ to be the best father. Do you understand?"

Sniffling, Wolfram locked eyes with his husband. After a long, expectant silence, he finally nodded.

A tender smile graced Yuuri's lips. "Good," he said, encircling his arms around Wolfram. With his chin resting atop the blond hair, he added, "I refuse to let you torment yourself all over again." 

"Thank you," was the muffled response of Wolfram.

"For what?"

"For toughing it out with me in the past. For now. For Yuuritter."

"Ah, that's right, you owe me big time. And when we're old, your body will no longer be sufficient payment," Yuuri teased good-humoredly.

Blushing profusely, Wolfram glared at his husband from underneath his eyelashes. "Sometimes, I seriously believe you're only after sex. Sex, sex, sex."

Yuuri's hearty laughter resounded through the chamber. "You realized that only now?" he teased.

"Seks! Seks! Eksss! Aha-ha-hah!"

Wolfram and Yuuri looked at their son, who was hugging his favorite stuffed toy. Then, Yuuritter held the teddy bear by the neck, and started kissing its nose while pinching its backside.

OooooooooO

TBC

**Author's Note:** unknowngirl, pikeebo, StandingOnTheRooftops, and Larkawolfgirl: Thank you for the encouragement.


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